


Vhen

by allisondraste



Series: Faded Moments [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, In the Fade, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 14:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15731136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allisondraste/pseuds/allisondraste
Summary: From a tumblr prompt asking about Solas and Lavellan's most interesting Fade experience.Niamh Lavellan and Solas find themselves in a dream about her childhood and emotions run high.





	Vhen

Vhenadahl stood solidly, a grounding presence in the middle of chaos, as it always had.  Niamh examined it, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation, head tilted slightly to the side.  It was her Vhenadahl, the one that stood in the center of the Tantervale Alienage where had lived in her early childhood.  It was the tree of her people , a disembodied fist, shaking at the sky.

The world around the tree solidified, the quaint and clean buildings the city elves called home, children singing and playing as their parents watched from porches.  It was picturesque on the surface, as all things in the most pristine of Free Marcher cities had been.  Tantervale was a pleasant enough place for elves to live… if they prescribed to and abided by the utter nonsense of the Chantry.  Public execution was a merciful punishment for elves believed to be heretics.

Niamh smiled bitterly and shook her head.  The Fade was a cold-hearted bitch.

As she continued to observe the scene before her, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled upward.  Something, or someone, was nearby.  She turned around in a flash, her fist full of flames.  The light from her extended hand illuminated familiar features that did not even flinch.  Dusty blue eyes glittered in amusement — Or were they grey? Grey with violet flecks dancing about? She blinked twice and released the tension from her nose that she had not realized she had been wrinkling. She needed to focus on the matter at hand. His eyes were irrelevant.

“Solas,” Niamh asked, sounding more oppositional than she intended, “What’re you doing here?”

“I..” Solas began as he examined his surroundings, “I do not know.”

Her gut reaction was to scoff. It was unlikely that he, who so expert in the workings of the Fade, had happened upon her dream accidentally.  However, the crease between his brows and the curve of his lips seemed to say that he was genuine in his confusion. She blinked again and shook her head. How long has she been staring? His mouth was not that damn special.

His eyes. His mouth. The last time they had stumbled upon each other in the Fade, and walked through a Haven that no longer existed, it had been his eyes and his mouth. Then again on the balcony, when he said he had not forgotten, kissed her again, called her his heart. It was always his damn eyes and his damn mouth. Of course it was more than that too, but she could not put it into words. He was infuriating.

“Where are we,” Solas asked pulling Niamh from her internal chafing, “This place must be important to you, to remember it in such detail.”

Niamh nodded and looked down at her feet before turning her gaze to Solas and then back out toward Vhenadahl.

“This is home,” she said, her voice tinted with a twinge of sorrow.

“I thought you were Dalish.”

“I am Dalish,” Niamh spat, the Fade around her becoming dark and turbulent.

“Careful vhenan,” Solas warned her, his voice even and calm, “Your emotions are more potent here.”

He was right, and how she hated it. How dare he imply that she was not Dalish because she was not born into a clan. How dare he say that and then tell her to calm down. But he was right if the swirling darkness around them was any indication.

“Fine,” she said tersely as she inhaled slowly and deeply to calm herself, the atmosphere settling into its original state, “But you can’t just deny my heritage and expect me to be not be upset by it.”

“I apologize,” Solas said gently, shocking Niamh to her core,  “I misspoke. Of course you are Dalish, but you are also more. Most Dalish are not born in alienages.”

“I was, “ Niamh explained solemnly, “I was born here and lived with my parents until-“ She froze as the memories of what happened flooded her mind and sat like a stone on her chest. Solas moves to her side and placed a hand on her back. Before them, the Fade reflected her memories.

The patter of tiny feet fell against the stony ground as a young girl with fiery hair ran toward the tree. Her face was pale and bare of markings aside from the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. She was out of breath and crying. Behind her, a small group of other children followed, shouting slurs. “Abomination” was still a horrible thing to be called even when mispronounced by an eight-year-old.

“SHUT UP,” little Niamh shouted as she reached her breaking point, her entire body erupting in flames, “I hope the Dreadwolf catches you and…and EATS YOU.”

Gasps could be heard from the group of children as well as from older elves that had been nearby to overhear the exchange. Not only had the girl blasphemed against the Maker in earshot of Chantry authorities, but the flames that came from her body and singed her own eyebrows had spread to Vhenadahl. The tree was burning.

The scene before Niamh and Solas dissolved and they were suddenly inside a home. Niamh’s home as she remembered it.  A wizened man with long hair tied back into a braid clicked his tongue and paced about the small room. The young girl was cradled in the arms of a woman that looked so much like Niamh, only her eyes were dark brown instead of green. A man with blond hair and green eyes sat beside them with an arm draped protectively around them both.

“Hahren, you cannot possibly be suggesting that we send her to the Circle,” the blond man said, “Not here! With her spirit, she will be made Tranquil as soon as she is of age.”

“I’m sorry Hahren, I didn’t mean to burn down Vhenadahl. I don’t want to leave,” Little Niamh whimpered in her mother’s arms, large tears forming in her eyes as she rubbed the burn marks on her hands and  face

“Shh da’vhenan,” her mother soothed her as she ran delicate fingers through her hair, “We know it was an accident.”

“Accident or not, it has still placed our people in grave danger, Dasha,” the Hahren spoke, a pained look contorting his face. “We have to act to keep her safe, to keep us all safe.”

The scene faded away once again leaving Solas and Niamh in a quiet forest. Niamh shook her head and wiped a tear from her eye. She had stopped the memories herself. That had been quite enough.  

“Mother knew of a Dalish clan called Lavellan that frequented the northern Free Marches,” she explained, “She, Father, and the Hahren all thought it would be kinder to send me with them than to let the Templars take me.”

“They seem to be very wise people who cared for you a great deal.”

“They should have let the Templars take me,” Niamh argued, fists clenched at her side, “It was my fault.”

“What was your fault, vhenan,” Solas asked, an undertone of concern in his voice as he moved forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. Niamh hoped she could control her emotions. She did not wish to immolate him. At least not this time.

“The smoke from the burning tree alerted the shemlen authorities, and they sent guards and Templars to the Alienage” Niamh explained, “Soon after I left with Keeper Deshanna, they began interrogating everyone. Eventually, one of the kids who had been teasing me that day confessed. The shem… they condemned the entire Alienge for so-called crimes against the Chantry. My parents and the Hahren were convicted of higher crimes and formally and publicly executed. I found out much later when Clan Lavellan stopped to trade in Tantervale.”

She lost her composure and fell into Solas’ arms, her face pressing into his chest.  His arms tightened around her and he rest his chin on her head.

“Ir abelas,” he whispered into her hair.

“The shem razed the Alienage, burnt it to the ground. They killed them all, Solas, they killed them and it was my fault. Had I been there… maybe it would have just been me.” Niamh’s body shook with sobs as she clenched the fabric of Solas’ tunic tightly in her fingers.

“How can you be certain of that,” he questioned, pulling away from her to meet her eyes with his own frustrating pair. She hated how they saw right through her even now. “It seems that those who would slaughter an entire group of people over the accident of a child would do so regardless. Your family, your Hahren, they protected you from sharing their fate.”

Niamh nodded and looked down. He was probably right. He usually was.  A tug at her chin pulled her eyes back up to meet his again, his mouth curled into a slight smile.

“The word vhenan and the word vhenadahl share the same root,” he began.

“I don’t think this is the best time for a language lesson,” Niamh muttered through sniffs of her nose.

“Vhen,” Solas continued as if he had not heard her, “It refers to the elves, to your people.”

“I still fail to see how this is relevant, Solas.”

“City elves keep Vhenadahl to represent their people. They carry memories from times long past and they instill hope.”

“Yes, and I burned that to the ground. So much for hope,” Niamh retorted, still not sure how this little lecture was supposed to be comforting.

“Vhenan, the heart, the place of the people, serves the same purpose,” Solas explained, “ I have been trying to determine what exactly about you is different from others I have encountered, why I am so drawn to you.”

Niamh could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as he spoke.  She examined his eyes, his mouth.  She did not make herself stop this time.

“It is because you carry your people, those who so selflessly cared for you, here,” Solas places a hand in the center of her chest as he spoke, causing her breath to catch. “Memories are powerful things.  You are who you are because they are with you always. You are Dalish, and you are more.”

A single tear trailed down her cheek as their eyes met again. The gravity of his words was overshadowed by the ever increasing awareness she had of his hand on her chest.  She looked down at that hand, and she felt his gaze follow. When she looked back up at him, there was something different in his eyes. She could not tell what it was.

His eyes did not matter for long as she closed the small distance between them and crushed her lips against his, tears flowing freely down her face. She was overwhelmed with emotion, both from painful memories and her present longing for Solas’ comfort.

She half expected him to pull away from her as he always did, but he didn’t. He pushed, pushed until he was as close to her as she could imagine him being, until she felt her back press against a nearby tree.

His eyes, his mouth, and now his hands, brushing skillfully across her as if she were one of his paintings. She could think of nothing else.

And then it stopped. Solas pulled away from her, brows furrowed, head shaking. She reaches out for him, but he recoiled further.

“What’s wrong,” she asked, pain present in her voice.

“It would be inappropriate to continue, no matter how much I desire to ,” Solas said with a sigh, “I would not take advantage of your vulnerability.

“You aren’t taking advantage of anything,” she said urgently longing for the return of his touch, “You are comforting me.”

Solas smiled weakly and answered “I do not wish to take advantage of my own vulnerability either. There is something about you that affects me deeply. Outside of the Fade it is indescribable. Here, it is maddening.”

“I—” Niamh began, but stopped when she realized she knew that feeling. It was the same infuriating confusion she experienced around him. It made her do stupid, impulsive things. Well, it made her do even more stupid and impulsive things than she did on her own.

“I wish to be intimate with you vhenan, very much,” he reassured her as he moved close to her once again, placing a quick kiss on her lips, “But I would prefer that both our minds be clear.”

Niamh nodded to show that she understood, and Solas turned to walk away in his typical fashion. She grabbed his arm abruptly and he stopped, looking back at her curiously.

“Please stay,” she asked, “I- I don’t want to be alone right now, after everything.”

“Ma nuvenin,” Solas agreed with a small chuckle as he returned to her side, intertwining his fingers with hers, “Let us go somewhere less… grim.”

“Yes, let’s,” she said, relieved, allowing him to lead her by the hand, away from the dark forest and burning Alienage, away from unpleasant memories and guilt that would never truly leave her. For the moment she could enjoy his company. Perhaps she could even allow herself to notice the way his eyes seemed to light up when they looked at her, how his mouth moved when he spoke of times long past, and how his hand felt against hers, if only for a moment.


End file.
